“Great job Hisao. Introduce yourself to a girl, and she runs away. Just great. Well, next person who says hello to me, I’ll… er… be nicer I guess? Is that even a word?”

It is a sign of madness to talk to yourself. After the past 48 hours here, I certainly feel like I am losing my mind. My batshit crazy conspiracy theory neighbor might even start making sense.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” I keep repeating the rote as I bump my head against the wall behind me.

I’m so frustrated. Closing my eyes to shut out the world, I go over the events of the past two days. So far I’ve been run ragged by the student council, scared off my classmate, had a raving lunatic rant at me… the only semi normal conversation so far was with a blind girl. Is this what drowning people feel like, this overwhelming wave crashing over them?

When the wheel rolls into my foot it takes me as a complete surprise. Staring at it rolling back, then forward again, once more running into my foot, I finally break myself out of the confusion within my head, and look up.

The wheel is part of a wheelchair, design I’m not familiar with. Motorized I note idly. The occupant seems to have no feet, and just has the ends of her legs dangling off of the edge of her seat. They clearly belong to a female student, based on the skirt worn. Continuing upward, no arms on the armrests either, with her shirt sleeves rolled up, exposing arm stumps instead.

Finally gazing at her face, the auburn brown haired girl gives the distinct impression of being confused. On the right side of her face, easily seen as she turns her head around, some scars are clearly visible.

Two girls with scarring in less than an hour? What are the odds? Well, I suppose in this school, the odds are far greater than elsewhere.

“Hello?” she calls out. “Is someone there?”

I sit up. “I’m right here. Sorry.”

“Hello? Anyone?” she continues, a Kensai accent clear in her voice.

Waving to her, I fail to get a response. Pulling myself to my knees and leaning in, I note that her eyes seem to be unfocused, as if she were staring at nothing at all. Clapping my hands, she still gives me no response. Lacking any other ideas, I reach out and put a hand on her shoulder.

The look of relief on her face is immediate. “Oh, thank goodness. I was afraid I’d gotten turned around again. Lean in, please, so I can understand you.”

Moving forward so I’m right next to her, she taps up my arm with her arm-stumps, until she reaches the side of my face. Once there, she pushes her arm stump right up to my mouth.

“Talk now,” she says, in a rather matter of fact tone.,

“Uh, hi,” I say, the words muffled by having an upper arm shoved in my face.

“Hello to you too!”

“This is awkward,” I say.

“Well, sorry, but my keyboard is out of battery,” she says, taking a slightly sarcastic tone.

Glancing down, I see a typewriter-style keyboard, with a wire running from it to something right next to her leg.

“Anyways, come quickly.”

Using her other arm, she pushes on a control of some sort, and her chair turns around and starts moving, rather slowly I note, down the hallway… right up to the swinging door. Seeing the sign next to it, I freeze.

Clearly I need to get her attention, so I grab her shoulder.

She yells over her shoulder as she rolls in. “No time, come on. Stop being squeamish!”

Watching the door in front of me, I look left, then right. Seeing nobody, I sigh, and walk into the girl’s bathroom behind her.

...

Inside, I find her already in a doublewide stall, lifting the armrest of her chair and shuffling herself onto the toilet seat. For a moment I consider how well she is moving, considering her limitations. Once seated, she calls out “Can you take them down, please?”

She’s… she’s asking me to… uh… looking around, no, nobody here…

Moving forward, feeling like I’m a cat burglar in the middle of a network of laserbeam tripwires, I kneel next to her, and reach under her skirt.

“Oh come on, quit the whole shy crap. I got to pee here!”

Taking a sharp breath, I slide her panties down to her knees, then withdraw my hands.

“Ahhh… that’s better… been holding it for nearly an hour trying to find someone,” she says.

To feel like less of a pervert, I look over her chair. It has a lot of electronic doo-dads on it, few of which I could even guess at the function.

The sound of… hitting the water below trickles off before ending. Glancing up I see a look of relief on the girl’s face.

“There done,” she says.

I reach up to pull them back into place when she interrupts me.

“Hey now, wipe first!”

What? Does she seriously… damnit.

Grabbing a few squares, I close my eyes and gingerly reach up…

“Not like that, idiot. Get in there and wipe it away. Geesh.”

This girl’s a bit on the blunt side.

Taking a deep breath, I reach in, and realize I have no idea where I need to go. I mean, in theory it’s in there… somewhere. I start trying to dab around, while my face feels like it’s on fire.

“Whoah, a bit friendly there. You’re acting like it’s the first time you…” then something crosses her face. “Um… lean in for a second.”

Leaning in, she shoves her arm against my face again.

Her own face flushes a bit. “Um… er… you are a girl, right?”

I shake my head.

“Oh shit!” She jumps in place a moment, resulting in my hand going places I was trying to avoid.

We both freeze. A few moments pass before she speaks up.

“You had such a smooth face too… Well, uh… I do need… um… ok, keep this clinical, right. Alright you… boy you. You’ve… never been down there?”

I shake my head against her arm again.

“Alright. Take your hand and, uh, move it to my left a bit. A bit more. Ok, there. Now, move forward a bit… there. Now, rub… gently! Gently! Ok, that’s better. Uh… best get a second set of paper and let’s repeat.”

I drop the paper I have, and gather up more. I reach back under, and, remembering placement, repeat.

“Oh right,” I say, not even thinking about it. I pull the panties (blue with yellow stripes I noted) back into place.

“And don’t you dare go anywhere,” she tells me as she scoots back onto her chair. Popping her armrest back into position, she exits the stall, rolling to the sink.

“Wash your hands,” she barks.

I dutifully do so, but then consider that how would she know? Still, don’t want to be unhygenic.

After a minute, she says “Ok back in the hallway, I, er, need to talk to you.”

Outside, I squat down and once more find an arm in my face.

“Now, I’m sorry for that, but I really did need to pee. Are you ok?”

“Sure,” I say, muffled by her arm.

“Well, now that you’ve been introduced to my femininity, I suppose we should exchange names. I’m Hitomi Chida,” she says, still looking a bit sheepish over the whole thing.

“Hisao Nakai,” I answer.

She seems to concentrate. “I didn’t quite get that. Can you repeat, slowly?”

“Hi Sao Na Kai” I enunciate.

“Either I got Hisao or Laiso…”

“First,” I tell into her arm.

“Alright. Have you eaten, Hisao? Since you’ve already been introduced to third base and all.”

I shake my head into her arm.

“Then follow me!”

Wheeling down the hallway at her slow speed, she rolls right up to the elevator, and presses the button with remarkable ease before sitting in front of it, back to. When the door opens, she backs into the elevator. I follow her in.

Once the doors close, she speaks up. “So, um… this is awkward.”

“I, oh wait...” I squat down again and put my head up

“No, no talking, just… listen a moment,” she seems uncomfortable. Understandably, I suppose.

“I’m… grateful for the help. I just, ah… um…”

The door opens, and I hear a distinctive “click” from her wheelchair.

“Right, onward!” She moves her wheelchair out of the elevator, one arm thrown forward like some classic cavalry officer leading his men into battle.

Her energy is nothing if not contagious.

Following her into the cafeteria, I can’t help but laugh as I witness her rushing over to the line, and stop before she runs into someone. How is she doing that?

“Hisao, you still back there,” she calls out.

Tapping her shoulder seems to work.

“Okay, check the pouch on my back. In the front slot should be a form titled “Dinner”. Can you please hand that over when the time comes?” She pauses for a second. “Uh… two taps for yes, three for no?”

I tap her shoulder twice.

“Good. Uh… I’ll go pick out a table then? Meet me over there.” She wheels off. Keeping an eye on her, she has chosen a table alongside the wall.

Getting through the line, I collect our trays. Setting them down, I tap her on the shoulder again.

“Hisao? That you?”

I tap her shoulder twice.

“Ok, good. Uh… on my lefthand side, there should be three plugs. Can you take the top plug and plug me up? Would make talking to you a lot easier.”

I plug it up, and watch as a light on her keyboard turns on.

“Ok, good. Now, we can talk. The keyboard has a good length of cord, so sit down and let’s eat.”

Checking, I unwind the cable and set the keyboard down on the table next to my tray. The strip at top says that it only can display 40 characters. Cautiously I type out a short message. “I’m sorry for earlier.”

She snorts a little bit. “Hon, you did me a favor. Don’t apologize. If anything, I should.”

Then she bends over, and starts to feel out her tray with her nose. Finding the plate of what I guess is chicken karaage, she just picks up a piece with her mouth, then sits back up to chew.

“So, I don’t remember running into you before Hisao,” she says after swallowing her food.

I type out “Transfer yesterday.”

She smiles a bit at that. “Oh ho, a transfer student? Well, that’s fun. How are you liking it here at Yamaku?”

After a pause, “Such a babe in the woods,” she says. “Now Hisao, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but…” she leans in and whispers conspiratorially, “you may have noticed that there are a few disabled kids around here.”

I groan… then realize that was pointless.

“Really? I had no idea.”

She pauses, then snorts again.

By now I’ve gotten a better look at her scarring. While Hanako’s looked like it was years old, Hitomi’s looked remarkably fresh, with far more of a nasty red color to them.

I think of a question. “How can you talk?”

She bends over and grabs another bite to eat, chewing it painfully slow before replying.

“What? You think all deaf folk are mute? Hell no. I only lost my hearing a bit over a year ago to begin with. Doesn’t mean my vocal cords suddenly stop working.”

“That makes sense,” I reply.

She bends over and picks up another bite to eat. Finishing that, she pipes up with, “And since you inquired about my issue, it’s only fair to ask what you’re in here for? Mid-year transfer means something happened to you. I didn’t feel a metal foot when I ran into you, and that hand of yours was real enough. Nice and soft too. Didn’t seem to pick up any scars or other knicks on your face. So? What is it? Epilepsy? Cancer? I’m just going to keep guessing until you tell me.”

“Heart Attack,” I type out.

Her eyebrows go up, then she picks up another piece of food, this time one of the sliced melons.

Chewing in silence, she finally nods before speaking. “Ah. Well, that explains that. There’s a girl in 2nd year with a heart issue too, so don’t feel alone.”

She then shifts a bit in her seat. “Well, I guess you can’t feel alone now. Hell, if my father knew what happened he’d be already arranging the wedding ceremony.”

After a pause, she says, “That’s a joke Hisao.”

“I laughed,” I type out.

“The table didn’t shake any,” she answers. “So don’t lie to me. I can’t communicate well anymore, so I don’t have time for falsehoods. Don’t lie to me, and we’ll be golden.”

“Ok.” Pausing a bit, I then type out, “Was worried.”

She snickers.

I then type out, “Which class are you in?”

“3-1,” she answers back. “You?”

“3-3”

“Oh, you’re in that class,” says with a grave look on her face.

“What class?”

She considers a moment. “I don’t like talking ill of people, but there are a pair of girls in there which just annoy me to no end.”

I sigh, and type out who I think she means. “Shizune and Misha, right?”

She gets a sour look on her face. “The student council? Hell no. They’re nothing but nice to me. I mean those two bimbos on the school newspaper.”

“School paper?” I type out.

“Yes,” Hitomi tells me. “They ran a feature on me earlier this year, called me such an ‘inspiration’ and ‘so strong,’ that kind of bullshit.”

She munches on another melon, seemingly calming down from discussing the newspaper girls, before saying more. “Sorry for sniping. They knew I don’t like people holding me up like some kind of hero. I mean, how am I a hero? Because I lost my vision at 14? My hearing at 16? Because I happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and lost these?” She holds up her arms and thumps her legs against her chair. “If that’s being a hero, you can take heroism and shove it.”

I consider before typing out, “You’re cheerful.”

She laughs before saying, “Hon, once you’ve lost this much, you can either mope around all ‘woe is me’ or roll with the punches and get back up.”

At this, she turns her head before nodding. “It’s almost 7. You finished yet?”

I hit the “yes” button on the keyboard.

“Alright. Can I abuse your good nature a bit more to take care of my tray?”

Once more I hit the ‘yes’ button, before picking up the trays to take them over for drop off.

Without thinking I return to the same table, where Hitomi is sitting there, humming to herself. If she can’t hear herself, why is she doing it?
I tap her on the shoulder.

“Hisao?” she asks.

I tap on her shoulder twice.

Looking down I see the keyboard has been returned to its spot. How did she do that without hands?

“If you unplug me, we can get going. Heading anywhere?”

I tap her shoulder three times.

“Good, then want to tag along? I’m just going to the dorms, but wouldn’t mind the company.” The smile on Hitomi’s face seems genuine.

Lacking anywhere else to be, I tap her shoulder twice.

“Alright, come on!”

Rolling out of the cafeteria, Hitomi takes a sharp left down a corridor I never paid much attention to. The marvel of watching someone navigate without sight or hearing is astounding to watch, as she takes the two corners until reaching a set of double doors. Rolling up to the automatic mechanism, she hits it with one arm stump and just keeps rolling forward… straight through the doors as they open as if it were a coordinated dance.

Once outside and clear of swing range, she turns her head and cries out, “Still with me?”

I tap her shoulder.

“Good. Don’t want to lose my break buddy,” she says with a bit of a laugh in her voice.

What’s a break buddy?

Following her, I find that the door we passed through leads to a ramp straight to the dorm entrance. Considering, it makes sense, but it’s tucked out of the way enough that most people wouldn’t think of it.

“So, Hisao, you enjoying Yamaku so far?” she asks when we’re about halfway along the gentle slope of the ramp.

I tap her shoulder three times.

“Hm, well when we get to the dorms, let’s talk about it, alright?”

She gets two taps on her shoulder.

“Right, that’s a good sport. Now c’mon!” she wheels herself up the ramp.

It’s a nice leisurely pace. Nothing too strenuous.

It is interesting watching how she controls her chair with just her arm stump. It’s almost natural for her I suppose.

Rolling through the door to the girl’s dorm, she takes a hard left. Glancing around, I hope I don’t get into trouble for this.

Entering the common room, she rolls right up to a table without pause. How is she doing that?

O...kay. That has to be the quickest to third base I've ever seen in a KS fic
You might consider working over the formatting a bit. A few paragraphs would help readability a lot.
Good luck continuing this, because it's going to be hard. Nice to see you're making a serious effort, regardless.

BTW, it's "Kansai"

Last edited by Mirage_GSM on Sat Dec 22, 2018 8:05 pm, edited 2 times in total.

Past time this was posted! I really hope you flesh this fic out sometime. I think it is probably my favorite of yours. I do think it would help a bit if it were written in paragraphs rather than line-by-line, but if it's how you write, then it's just how you write.

Past time this was posted! I really hope you flesh this fic out sometime. I think it is probably my favorite of yours. I do think it would help a bit if it were written in paragraphs rather than line-by-line, but if it's how you write, then it's just how you write.

It's phpBB not handling line spacing the same as my wordprocessor. Had time this morning, so cleaned it up.